


Then Perish

by rosegoldroman



Category: Sanders Sides, Sanders Sides (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Multi, and never posted it, enjoy sdhfksdhf, i wrote this at 4 am abt a week ago, logan learns memes, so here yall go, ultimate crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:36:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegoldroman/pseuds/rosegoldroman
Summary: In his never-ending quest for knowledge, Logan has discovered something truly interesting: memes. More importantly, he’s discovered the effect said memes have on his boyfriends. And they thought Logan without memes was chaotic…





	Then Perish

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this at four am a while back for @romanssippycup's sanders sides appreciation month on tumblr and i just realized i never posted it here???? it's the most chaotic thing i've ever written,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i hope yall enjoy

Logan prided himself on his seriousness.

He was logic, after all; seriousness was practically in the job description. He was a pillar of rationality, standing out among the other, less-organized sides, a beacon of calm, of order, of logic. He was cool, intelligent, and — much unlike his fellow sides — extremely unlikely to follow flights of  _emotional_  fancy.

There were, of course, some exceptions to this. As much as he loathed to admit it, he was only human — or, rather, only part of a human — and it was only logical for a human to experience such things. Crofter’s was, obviously, his main weakness — but there was another. Something so entertainingly terrible that he couldn’t stay away.

He could still remember the day he’d discovered them. He hadn’t quite… understood them at first; they were essentially just another type of modern slang terms, another branch of an ever-evolving language he could only ever hope to learn. However, he knew of one side who he felt certain knew of these strange things, who could enlighten him: Virgil.

And so, under Virgil’s tutelage, Logan learned about memes — and the world hasn’t been the same since.

It wasn’t the memes themselves that interested Logan — though he did find it quite intriguing that humanity was, in essence, reverting back to a hieroglyphic-like form of communication, so familiar with these “memes” that they were able to hold entire conversations with nothing but pictures — but rather, something he didn’t discover until days later. It was nearly a week later when Logan felt confident enough in his knowledge to test it out.

In other words: he was going to unleash these new “memes” into the mindscape — and in doing so, he was going to discover something truly entertaining.

It started on a quiet, unassuming day, as most chaotic, disastrous things do. A gentle rain fell outside, and soft gray sunlight filtered in through the open windows, dancing around the scent of petrichor. Logan sat in the kitchen, one hand holding up a thick book and the other wrapped around a spoon, digging deep into the last bits of Crofter’s left in the jar.

The opportunity practically presented itself; Roman paraded into the kitchen with all the bravado of a particularly beautiful storm and busied himself searching through the cabinets, singing loudly to himself as he looked. Finally, his eyes rested on the jar of jelly sitting before Logan, and he smiled, a cheshire-cat grin.

“Hey, Logan~” Roman sang, drawing out Logan’s name in dramatic sing-song. “I see my favorite person is enjoying my favorite jelly. Jelly that I, too, would love to indulge in, would —”

“You cannot have my Crofter’s, Roman,” Logan said dryly, idly turning the page.

Roman slid into the seat beside him, letting out a dramatic gasp as though he’d been mortally wounded by Logan’s words. “Oh, if only someone would be kind enough to share their delicious, delectable —”

“No,” Logan said. “There is hardly any left. I am not sharing.”

“Rude!” Roman draped a hand over his forehead and leaned back, the chair beneath him wobbling dangerously. “I have been wounded by your harsh words, dearest Logan. I fear if this hideous injury isn’t healed, I will depart from this world.”

“Rest in peace,” Logan deadpanned. Roman groaned, rolling his eyes and sitting normally just before his chair toppled beneath him.

“Ugh, come on, Logan. I’m hungry.” He leaned across the kitchen table, tracing a gentle finger down Logan’s jawline and lifting his head. He gazed into Logan’s eyes, a hint of a flirtatious smile gracing his lips. “Please share your Crofter’s, dearheart. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” This was it; his chance. He glanced out into the living room and spotted Virgil idly watching their conversation over the top of his phone, one eyebrow raised and mouth quirked into an amused smirk. Good; there was nothing quite like proving your mastery of a subject in front of the teacher.

“Anything!” Roman leaned closer; his face was close, very close, and any other time Logan would have been a blushing mess, but not today. Today, a poker face was key. Their lips were close to brushing, their faces mere inches away from each other. Logan waited until the very last moment before standing, snatching the Crofter’s and watching as Roman overbalanced and collapsed across the table.

“Then  _perish.”_

“Oh my god!” Roman’s voice was an offended squeak as he picked himself up, spluttering indignantly the whole time. “You — did you just —  _why?”_

Logan had to admit, Roman looked rather… adorable when he was this flustered. He allowed himself a small smile. “Virgil taught me about ‘memes,’” he explained. “I was simply testing my knowledge.”

Virgil’s head popped up over the back of the couch, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth to stifle his laughter. He offered a thumbs-up and Roman gasped in mock-fury.

“Virgil! How  _could_  you?” he cried over-dramatically.

“Easily,” Virgil said once his laughter had mostly faded, shrugging. “That was iconic, Lo. Good work.”

“This is betrayal! Betrayal at its finest!” Roman exclaimed, head swiveling between Logan and Virgil as though he wasn’t sure who to glare at more. Logan and Virgil exchanged a look.

“Top ten anime betrayals?” Logan offered, his smile too innocent to be anything but malicious. Roman let out a strangled sound somewhere between a cry and a scream as Virgil broke down in laughter once more, and, with one last indignant look, strode out of the kitchen. Logan waited until he’d disappeared up the stairs to allow himself to laugh, stifling his quiet chuckling behind his hand.

Logan had thought the memes themselves were interesting, but this… this was truly entertaining. He had never expected them to have such an effect on Roman, but he was far from complaining. He would have to run more experiments, determine which means elicited which reactions. Purely for science, of course.

(The fact that Roman looked incredibly adorable when flustered had absolutely nothing to do with it. Obviously.)

In the weeks that followed, Logan ran more tests. It wasn’t often that he gleaned this much enjoyment from an experiment; he was going to milk this for all it was worth. It seemed the older memes — such as a popular Rick Astley song sent under the guise of something completely different; also known as a “rick-roll” — annoyed Roman the most, but it wasn’t hard to obtain a furious reaction through a well-timed “then perish” or an offhand mention of “big dick energy.”

He even expanded his horizons, grouping the other sides into his little experiment as well. Patton’s reactions ranged from uproarious laughter to supportive confusion, which was always… adequate… should he find himself in need of a pick-me-up. As for Virgil…

Well, let’s just say, the student had become the teacher.

It was a wonderful past-time, and a sufficient way to memorize this new form of slang language. Logan continued to enjoy his meme experiments — unaware that a rebellion was forming in the shadows.

“He must be stopped!” Roman stage-whispered, pacing back-and-forth before Patton and Virgil. “This has gotten far out of hand!”

“Aw, c’mon, kiddo! He’s just havin’ a bit of fun.” Patton laughed, spinning around and around in Roman’s spinny-chair with a smile on his face. “No harm in that!”

“No, I’m with princey,” Virgil said. “I made a monster. I… I never thought teaching him about memes would end up like  _this…”_

“You couldn’t possibly have foreseen an ending as grim as this,” Roman said. “No one could have anticipated how chaotic Specs has become. But the time for blaming yourself is over, dearest Virge. The time for  _action_  is upon us.”

“Action?” Virgil repeated, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we need to fight back! Banish those filthy memes from the mindscape once and for all!”

“Don’tcha think you’re going a little overboard there, Ro?” Patton asked, bracing his hand against Roman’s desk to stop the chair from spinning. “I mean, those silly jokes really  _meme_  a lot to him!”

“Oh my god.” Roman let out a strangled half-cry, half-laugh. “No, I am not going too far! Pat, don’t you see? If we don’t put an end to this, it will grow. Do you really want to deal with a meme-ing Logan for the rest of your life?”

“He  _t-posed_  at me the other day,” Virgil said, recalling the memory as though it were a traumatic experience. “I may never recover.”

Roman nodded sympathetically. “Don’t worry, my stormcloud. I will avenge you.” He finally stopped pacing, turning to face the two with ambition and determination sparking in his eyes. “I have a plan.”

And thus, the Anti-Meme-Dream-Team — a name of Roman’s invention, which Virgil hated with a passion — was formed. Roman’s plan was simple, but if it succeeded, it would spell the end of Logan’s memes.

They carried out Phase One in the dead of night, cloaked in darkness. The mission was a success; the pieces were falling into place. The next morning, Logan made his way down to the kitchen to find his three boyfriends already there, sitting quietly around the kitchen table with strange looks on their faces.

“Odd,” he remarked, regarding them suspiciously. “Since when have you three woken up earlier than me?”

“Things are changing, Logan dearest,” Roman said. “Things are changing.”

“…right,” Logan said slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. He stared at them for a moment longer before shaking his head and turning, reaching up into the cabinet to find… nothing. He froze, eyes narrowing.

“Where is my Crofter’s?” he asked slowly, dangerously, turning back to the very guilty-looking trio at the table.

“What, you mean this?” Roman waved his hand and a jar appeared, gleaming in the morning sunlight. Logan huffed and reached out to take it, but Roman drew his hand back, holding it high above the much-shorter Logan’s head. “Ah-ah, not so hasty! We have some… things we would like to discuss with you.”

“Absolutely superb, you funky little gay,” Logan grumbled sarcastically, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter behind him.

“Don’t you mean fu —”

“Not in front of Patton,” Logan said sharply to cut Virgil off, as the side in question gasped. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Well? What is so important that you felt it necessary to hold my jelly hostage?”

“Memes,” Roman said, his fingers tightening around the jar. “This — this obsession is getting out of hand! We won’t stand for it any longer!”

“That’s why we’re sitting down!” Patton said with a giggle. Roman and Logan groaned in unison, and Virgil chuckled, patting Patton on the back.

“Seriously, though,” Virgil said after a moment. “Princey’s right. It’s gotta stop, man.”

“I don’t see why,” Logan said. “I have done nothing but prove my mastery of this subject. I have, as they say, big mind energy.”

“Literally no one says that,” Virgil groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose in utter disappointment. “It’s gone on long enough, Logan. No more memes.”

“And to ensure that you swear off those horrible monstrosities forever…” Roman paused for dramatic effect, lifting the jar of jelly into the air. “We have stolen all of your Crofter’s!”

“Mhm. You are aware that I am capable of summoning things as well?” He held out his hand… and nothing happened. His fingers twitched but his hand remained empty, and silence reigned as fury flashed across his face.

“Are you aware that I am capable of stopping you from summoning things? Because I am. Boom.” Roman grinned. “Now, promise never to meme again, and I shall return your beloved Crofter’s.”

“You must be joking.” Logan glared, slamming his hands down on the kitchen table and leaning across, meeting Roman’s confident grin head on. “This is ridiculous. Give me back my jam, Roman.”

“Promise,” Roman retorted. “Promise you won’t ever meme again. I cannot stand another rickroll.”

“Hmm…” Logan straightened up and made his way around the table, facing Roman directly. He took slow, deliberate steps forward, and Roman mirrored him, backing up until his back was to the wall. Roman tilted his head to one side, smirking as Logan approached, holding the jelly infuriatingly high.

“You underestimated me,” Logan said, and in one swift movement, he yanked on Roman’s sash and pushing their lips together. Roman melted beneath his touch, as he always did, and he heard Virgil sigh and Patton chuckle behind him. One hand went to cup the back of Roman’s head; the other reached up and, the moment Roman’s arm had become loose enough, snatched the jar of jelly. He leaped backward, allowing himself a victorious smirk.

“Oh, way to go, _Roman,”_ Virgil growled, shaking his head. Roman spluttered, his face as red as his sash, his now empty hand twitching.

“But — no! You — that — my leverage!” Roman cried. Logan smirked, catching Roman’s eyes.

“This is so sad,” he began, and felt the wave of disappointment, of fury, radiate throughout the kitchen. He hugged his jar of Crofter’s to his chest, pride and victory making his chest swell, his next words ringing with chaotic confidence.

“Alexa, play Despacito.”


End file.
